


Sleepless Stars

by astralgabriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Fluff, M/M, Stars, following canon, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralgabriel/pseuds/astralgabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has come to a conclusion: he has fallen in love with sleep. In reality, nearly everyone he loves is dead. In his dreams, they wait for him, ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little cute but not really cute ficlet, inspired by Vanilla Twilight by Owl City

Sam fell in love with sleep.

Behind his eyelids lay a trove of adventures, ready to be lived. Gabriel waited with his hand held out, grin spread across his lips. Sam, every night, would weave his fingers through Gabriel’s without hesitation, the archangel pulling him by the hand into a world of fantasy and awe; a release from the dangers and horrors of his life. From diving through the barrier reef with rainbow coloured fish playfully nipping at his feet, to picnics in a castle hand-carved – supposedly – from dark chocolate, to a mock-up spy mission, in which Gabriel very willingly played the Bond-archangel-in-distress role. Sam had seen it all, and more.

Dream Gabriel did more for him than anyone else – other than Dean – had, simply by chasing the nightmares away. He became the guardian angel of Sam’s sleep, leaving the Winchester calmer and happier than he could remember being in a long time.

Sam’s favourite dream promised a peaceful, Hell-less night’s sleep. Cliché as it was, it was one of the simpler ones, where he and Gabriel lay atop the Impala bonnet, the cool bite of the metal piercing through Sam’s thin plaid shirt. The night sky hung above them, cloudless as ever, tiny pinpricks of light decorating the deep blue infinity. They just lay there, drawing constellations out of the stars in the sky, and Gabriel, being the almost omnipotent being he was, would start moving stars about at his whim, creating new constellations of various genitalia, random shapes which made him snort, and, as always, a moose.

The Great Moose of Sam, he called it. Gabriel would jab Sam in the ribs with his elbow and point up to his new constellation creation with a smug pride. Sam would laugh and point out that it’d only be fair if The Midget of Gabriel became an official constellation, and Gabriel would dramatically flounce his arms and pout. 

Sam couldn’t help but admit to himself that he was falling in love with the man of his dreams. Literally. The idea of having a constellation named after him made his chest tighten, and yet that constellation only existed in his dreams. A connection of stars which could only ever exist in the universe of his mind, and not the one of reality. It was a trick, Sam thought: the stars would lull you into a false happiness, making you believe they were something small and delicate and beautiful, then they’d defy you, knock you over in a show of force, reveal that they’re more than you could ever tame, that they are wild and loose and free. 

Some nights he’d find himself tracing the real stars in the real sky, willing them into the fake constellations a dead being made in his dreams.

Sam fell in love with sleep, and Sam fell in love with a dead dream.


End file.
